Silver Smoothies
by TiredGreenEyes
Summary: A series of oneshots about Blue and Silver.
1. About the weather

Just a one shot about one of my favorite character pairings… don't take it too seriously. I did this very fast so if you see any errors feel free to point them out in review. :) Mil gracias

* * *

He was on the roof.

Flynn sighed. He was sitting on the roof, leaning back on his palms and staring up at the sky. There were clouds today; big puffy white ones that floated gently across the sky, by a nonexistent wind. A few of them were shaped like donuts. One of them looked like a rabbit. He wondered idly if that was simply a coincidence or whether the program had actually been programmed to include certain cloud shapes.

The thought made him laugh. _Programmed_ cloud shapes? Come now, what would be the purpose of that? Didn't they have enough trouble trying to keep the dome protected and functional? Who would bother taking the time to create a rabbit for the weather hologram?

Fighting Venjix, saving the world… it was exhilarating. It was terrifying. It was exhausting. No matter how many times they defended the city there was always the fear of the next time. Sometimes, Flynn was sure that it was the fear of 'the next time' that encouraged Venjix to move forward. What else could he possibly hope to accomplish? If he gained Corinth, he'd have control over the entire world. Sure, the fact that he won would sustain him, feel his ego for a few years.

Then what?

What could a Virus possibly hope for in the world, once the humans were all dead? Venjix certainly could not enjoy love, joy, and other human emotions. He could not appreciate the earth; it's changing seasons and weather, seeing as how he had turned it into wasteland.

If Venjix won, he would gain nothing. At the same time, he would never stop trying to achieve that goal… the goal of making human life meaningless. Purposeless.

'_Summer's right, I really do think too much_,' he thought with a sigh.

All of a sudden the trap door burst open. Purely out of instinct, Flynn jumped to his feet. At the same time Gemma ran straight into him. The large box she'd been holding which was full of wires and bolts went flying; pieces raining down and scattering everywhere. Gemma fell back while Flynn skated around on the nuts and bolts, waving his arms about like a great bird while trying to keep his balance. When he finally felt like his days as a figure skater were over he carefully stood up straight.

"Are you alright Lass?" he asked Gemma, carefully reaching out a hand to help her up. She took it gratefully.

"Sure. I'm sorry Flynn," she apologized, looking sheepish. "I didn't realize anyone else was up here."

Flynn smiled gently and reached down to pick up a metal coupling as big as his fist. "It's not a problem," he assured her. "Though… what were you planning on doing with all this?"

Gemma brightened. "Gem and I were making new detonators for the explosives. We thought that if we made more bombs we could plant them around the outside of the city… in the ground! Then when grinders come…" She swept her arms out wide. "BOOM! BOW! BAM!"

Flynn chuckled a little. He had to admit, when the 'boom' twins had first come they'd had a bit of trouble trying to understand the child like emotions and the prodigy-like brains that their newest members possessed. There was still some part of him wondering who on earth spoke with so many interjections, but he was so used to it now that he just smiled and laughed. Who'd have thought?

"You and Gem have really done a lot for us," he said as he helped her collect all the little parts. "We're quite lucky to have you,"

Gemma grinned.

In a few moments they had collected all the pieces and Flynn was now helping Gemma to put the last bits of the detonator together. Despite all the many parts, the whole thing was only abut the side of a loaf of bread. He peered at the metal trap, looking concernedly at the latch, which was held together with two horizontal pieces of pipe and a two inch bolt.

"You wouldn't happen to have a wrench in that box, would you?" he asked as he fumbled with the nut, trying to turn it with his fingers and failing.

Gemma reached, not into the box but into the pocket of her sweatshirt. She pulled out a screwdriver, hammer, several long and tangled balls of wire and three sticks of bubble gum before she finally found the wrench. He blinked in amazement.

'_Where in Scotland…? Ach well, never mind_,' he nodded his thanks and began to tighten the bolt as she gently held the two pieces in place. He felt a bit of a grin tugging at his lips. '_A woman who carries a wrench in her jumper… I may have just found my one true love…_' The thought, which was almost subconscious passing fancy, made him blush to the tips of his ears.

'_Whoa now, wait a minute!_'

"Flynn?" Gemma asked. He cleared his throat.

"Yes?" he asked, a bit higher than his usually tone.

"Why were you on the roof?"

He took a deep breath to relax. In response he gestured with his head to the west where the sun was beginning to set.

"There's a nice view of the city from here," he said handing her back the tool. "If you come here at twilight, just before the night, it's quite peaceful."

Gemma tipped her head. She squinted at him.

"What?" he asked.

Gemma looked cautious. "Flynn… don't want to disappoint you… but… the scenery isn't real."

He nearly laughed but seeing her sincerity, held it in. "Aye, I know it's not. It's not real birds flying above our heads or real sky, sun or stars. But it's a good reminder."

"Of what?" Gemma asked again, seeming confused.

"Well…" he hesitated. "Well…. Of… of what we're fighting for. It's not just to protect the city, though that's certainly pretty high up on the list. It's to defeat Venjix. And once we've done that… we won't need a hologram. Because we'll be able to work towards restoring the earth to what it was. Real clear sky and fresh air. A real sunset."

'_Clouds that take shape out of pure coincidence and not computer programming_,'

Gemma looked thoughtful for a moment. She looked at the sun, which was starting to burn in brilliant shades of red as it set over the city. Above, there were clouds, and a darker night sky just beginning to peak out. A strange look was on her face. It was an expression to match her age, which threw him off for a moment. Finally she spoke.

"Gem, Dr. K and I, we grew up in alphabet soup," she said finally. "We weren't allowed to go outside." She shrugged a little 'Don't… don't really remember what… real sky looks like. In the wilderness… it's kind of brown and dirty. Not pretty like _this_ one."

Flynn felt a sudden pang. For Gemma, an outside world did not make sense. The unpredictability of rain, of dry spells, or hail or fog seemed ludicrous when one could simply control such things. She was defending the hologram sky, because she'd been trained growing up to believe in science… in how the world could be bettered only through calculation. He looked sadly at the young woman, who for all her smarts and brains and explosives, did not have a memory of laying in the grass, being taken by surprise by a sudden rain shower or having three days off from school due to a snowstorm. Part of her was trapped in a child-like mentality and yet she had never truly experienced childhood.

He stood up and stepped beside her. All over the city lights in the apartment buildings were flickering on, candles in the night.

"I know it must seem strange," he said softly. "I know that for you three, it doesn't make much sense. It probably seems like we're going backwards instead of forwards."

"I don't understand why it's so important," she said, not in a scathing or exasperated way, just quietly, as if she was admitting an embarrassing secret.

Flynn sighed. How to explain?

"It's important because…" he stopped, frustrated with his lack of words. "Because… because it's _real_. Because it wasn't man-made, because it doesn't have some hidden agenda…. Because it's… real."

Gemma nodded, but said nothing. He touched her shoulder gently and she looked up, surprised.

"Someday," he said, feeling an irrational determination. "Someday when we defeat Venjix and we start to restore the planet back to the way it used to be… I'll show you. We'll watch a sunset together and you can see what it's really like."

He immediately felt the heat rise to his cheeks again. What? What was he saying? Great sons of the Scotts, she'd think him mad to randomly suggest such a thing. But to his surprise Gemma smiled a little. It was hesitant, as though the idea rather scared her more than excited her, but her natural curiosity couldn't resist such an offer.

"Okay," she said finally, a little hesitant. Then, in a more sure tone, "I'd like that!"

They smiled at each other.

They stood at the base of the rooftop, looking out across the sky, watching the light quickly fade as the sun completely disappeared from view. It left a trail of orange and pink behind, like a tongue that lead up to the stars.

And, for a long time, they didn't say anything. It was a proper, companionable silence.

Finally he turned. "We should go back down," he said. "Dr. K's meeting starts soon,"

She nodded and reached down, gathering her tools. She carefully opened the hatch on the rooftop and set the detonator inside for later usage. Flynn opened the hatch and was starting to climb down when he heard Gemma gasp.

"Hey look Flynn! Look over there! There's a cloud that's shaped like a bunny!"

He looked up in shock. Sure enough, faded and dark against the sky, was that blasted rabbit again.

"Can you see it?!" Gemma asked, her natural excitable and joyful mood returning instantly as she clapped her hands like a little girl.

Flynn smiled. "I can see it lass," he said fondly.

'_And someday_,' he thought, '_you will too_.'

* * *

Zee End. Review please so I know if I should write more.


	2. Chapstick

Okay so here's the thing… I'd like to write more of these. So when you review leave a fun prompt and I'll see what I can do. :D That's the challenge! It's gonna be fun! May take a little longer due to the pile of work growing on my desk…

This prompt was brought to you by my sister! And it is called… _Chapstick. _

_Be ye warned, a total fluff bomb lies within!_

* * *

For almost a week they'd barely seen sight of her except when they needed help fighting attack bots. She'd been tucked away in her room upstairs, slowly recovering from a cold. Like a perfect watchdog, Gem had sat beside her and forbid visitors (except for Dr. K), saying that she needed to rest. Actually, he'd taken his brother role so seriously that Summer had nearly thrown a fit when he forbid her from entering the dormitory that she shared with the silver ranger. Dr. K had talked Gem down a bit, assuring him that it was merely a common cold and Gemma would be just fine. But as much as Gemma respected her brother she was bouncing off the walls in the tiny dormitory. Despite her chest cough, runny nose and chapped lips, she somehow managed to convince him of a complete recovery, and yesterday, to Gem's eternal worry, Gemma was back in the garage, around her teammates.

Today she was wearing a purple shirt with a rainbow and _Roy g biv_ written beneath it in swirly cursive letters. She and Gem were sitting on the floor of the garage, drawing chalk pictures on the floor. So far they'd drawn unicorns, dragons, hearts and stars and a few cartoons that looked suspiciously like Dr. K, Summer, and Ziggy. There was a twinkle in her eye as Gem whispered something conspiratorially to her. He noticed that whenever she was trying not to laugh she always ducked her head and peeked out from beneath her fringe.

Not that he was _watching_ or anything.

He stood in front of his work bench, trying establish some semblance of order. Although he was the chief authority when it came to mechanics, Scott, Dillon and Summer were all very insistent about at least attempting to fix their own vehicles. Normally it worked out fairly well; after all, they all knew the basics of car care. However every month or so one of them would try their hand at something they knew absolutely nothing about. Then, after they had made the situation ten times worse, they would sheepishly come to him and admit they needed help. Unfortunately that meant he would spend the next two days cleaning up their mistakes.

But really, he didn't mind. He liked cars and fixing things. He was good at it; always had been. Sure, there were times when he had taken one look at Summer's bike and groaned when he saw the sparks emanating from the engine. But still, there was another part of him that couldn't wait to jump in and get to work.

The real problem, to be honest… was that the rangers had a habit of borrowing his tools and forgetting to return them. Or, if they did remember, they wouldn't put them back in their allotted boxes and slots, but rather all across the work bench or in random piles of metal and scrap. It had gotten to the point where Flynn had had to search for twenty minutes just to find a screwdriver- and when he did it still wasn't the right size. Hence, he had decided to spend his day off reorganizing his work bench and putting everything back in place.

The problem was that he really wasn't getting much work done…

Flynn felt his heart flutter ever so slightly when he saw that Gemma was drawing a stick figure of a man in a blue mechanics suit. She pulled out brown and began drawing hair, which appeared to be standing straight up. Almost without thinking, he put his hand to his head. The movement drew her attention and she looked up.

Simultaneously, they blushed.

_Ach, there's the rub…_' he thought as Gem looked at them both with a frown on his face. The protective older brother. The Twin. The only reason why he hesitated about talking or spending time with the Silver ranger.

'_Really, 'Why couldn't it have been a protective father who lectures me about making sure she gets home on time?_'Flynn sighed. But no. Really… he liked Gem. There was no doubting he was a genius and a valuable team member. Even Scott's father had noticed that… (though considering how narrow minded that man was maybe it wasn't the best of examples…)

He quickly went back to his tools, trying to avoid her gaze and all the while smiling foolishly. A crackling cough made him look up again, and he saw Gemma struggling to stifle the sound behind her fist.

"You okay?"Gem immediately reached out and took her shoulder, worry evident in his eyes. "I'll get Dr. K?"

She shook her head, "No, "she said in a hoarse voice. "Don't worry. It's nothing!" Reaching into her pocket she pulled out her chapstick, running it over her cracked lips. She had barely lowered her hand before she started coughing again, deep retching coughs that racked her entire body.

Gem took her hand, looking up at Flynn. He startled slightly, realizing that he was no longer standing at his workbench, but directly above the twins. How had he gotten here? When had he moved?

"I'm taking Gemma back upstairs." he said, helping his sister stand. Flynn reached out to take her other arm, but misjudged, instead awkwardly grabbing her wrist. Somehow, as she stood, for a sudden brief second their hands clasped together, fingers entwining. She looked at up, her face only an inch away from his own and for a split second Flynn's heart leapt into his throat.

Gem hardly noticed. "Do you want some water Gemma?" he asked as he lead her away and up the stairs. Gemma nodded, her eyes back on the blue ranger, who stood in the center of the garage, on top of a chalk masterpiece, watching.

The door closed.

Flynn sighed, reaching up to scratch his head. '_Well…_'he thought, regret and worry flickering across his mind. '_That's that_…'

He turned back to his bench. As he did he stepped on something. Slowly, he lifted his foot to see the small bright blue chapstick container on the floor. He reached down and picked it up, smiling a little as he read the label. _BARNEY'S BLUEBERRY LIP BALM_

He uncapped it and sniffed. Blueberry huh?

Without thinking, he pressed the container to his bottom lip, running it evenly across from left to right and then again on top. Immediately he could taste the artificial flavoring.

His imagination took over. Is this what kissing her would be like?

With a smirk, he tucked the tube into his pocket and returned to his bench. Logically, it was a rather unsanitary thing to do- share chapstick with a person who had had the flu. Still he couldn't imagine catching a cold when the thought of their lips both touching the same thing made him so warm.


	3. An evening stroll

**An evening stroll**

This probably is nothing like what you had in mind. But everyone keeps bashing poor Gem I felt I had to explain why he'd reacted the way he did. So anyway, here's some background.

I really hope it doesn't come across like an amnesia story. Honestly, it's not. Most people I know can't remember much about themselves when they were age 8.

This is a growing up story for our two favorite prodigies.

* * *

Gemma remembered absolutely nothing of their lives before Alphabet soup. They'd only been eight years old at the time- by all logicality she should have at least had some memories of her life before. Instead, she had to rely on Gem for her past. Yet his recall wasn't perfect either.

"We were really small, I think…" he mused one night. Gemma looked up. She was sitting on the floor with her back leaned up against the couch. It was a rare and quiet night. Dr. K had told them that all of the projects she was currently working on needed no assistance and due to their hard work they should take the evening off. The twins hadn't quite known what to do with themselves. Everyone else was busy with various activities; most of them were out trying to visit family members before Venjix's next attack. They'd floated around for a little while before settling down in front of the TV watching some movie called The 10th Kingdom. Five hours later they were still there, glued to the screen, only pausing to put in or take out another disc. It was nudging eight o'clock and Gemma had thought her brother had fallen asleep, he'd been so quiet.

"Yeah?" she asked softly. On the screen Virginia and Wolf were in Kissingtown, having a fancy dinner.

"Yeah," he repeated quietly. "We were dressed alike… I think we were in gymnastics class or something. We had leotards… we were doing back flips." He paused again, going quiet. Gemma was entranced by this. She turned around, kneeling in front of him.

"Anything else?"

Gem frowned. The memories never really made him as happy as they made her. In fact, they usually made him seem sad and angry. Maybe for him they seemed like a possibility lost. Gemma only saw them as a fascination; as though those were two other children from a previous life.

"It was a show and there were lots and lots of other kids and were people in the stands clapping," Gem drew out. He squinted, as though trying to see it in his mind. "I think I was looking at the people, trying to find Mom and Dad. But right behind them were people in black suits. When I looked at them they stared right back."

Gemma's eyes widened. Before now there had never been parents in the equation, never been any mention of them at all.

"What did they look like," she asked, breathlessly.

"Big," he said quickly. "They were wearing sunglasses and they had mics in their ears."

Gemma frowned. "No… no I meant our _parents_."

Gem looked surprised for a moment. His eyebrows furrowed. After a moment he shook his head.

"I-I don't know," he admitted quietly. "I can't see their faces. It's blurry."

* * *

Flynn usually left the garage at dusk for a walk. He said that sometimes right before the sun set, there was a sudden flash of green that spread across the sky and reminded him of a bedtime story his father used to tell him. He said it was relaxing to walk down the street and see children being called inside for the night and people closing up their shops and turning in for the evening.

He had taken her along once, and they'd walked down the street, side by side in a companionable silence reserved only for those so comfortable with one another that they have no need to clutter their time together with talk. They were waiting to cross the street on Lorenth avenue when they saw a young man knock on the door of a broken down apartment. A young girl opened the door without undoing the chain latch and upon seeing who it was, closed the door and then threw it open with a flourish.

"David!" she exclaimed happily.

"Happy birthday Alisha," he told her, handing her a bright colored bunch of roses from behind his back and pecking her on the cheek, "I love you."

The light changed and they walked across the street, leaving the happy couple behind. Gemma looked down at Flynn's hands, swinging slightly as he looked across the way for oncoming traffic. Gently she reached out, her hand gasping around two of his fingers.

Flynn jerked and looked at her, surprised. She blushed, clear to the roots of her hair. The corners of his eyes crinkled then and gently shook her hand loose only to grasp it again tightly, their fingers knitting together; a perfect fit. She could barely look at him but she heard his quiet chuckle as they rounded the bend where the garage was. Before they went inside he pulled her hand, still holding tight to his up to his mouth and kissed it. Then he smiled that charming Scottish smile and wished her pleasant dreams.

That was when she knew that he was no longer just a friend.

* * *

Gem had gone upstairs nearly an hour ago and she was still here, sitting on the couch and drawing pictures. All of a sudden Flynn jogged down the steps. When he saw her he smiled and slowed down.

"Hey," he said once he'd reached the edge of the couch.

"Hey," she said back, hugging her picture to her chest, afraid for him to see. "How is your father?"

Flynn laughed, "The same hard-headed Scott he was the last time I saw him. We had a nice visit," he tipped his head and his eyes twinkled. "Seems like it's been a relaxing day for everyone, even Dr. K's turned in early."

She nodded, picking at the loose thread on her jumper. Would he ask?

"I was thinking of going for an evening stroll… to top it all off," he seemed hesitant. "Any chance you'd like to come along?"

Gemma brightened visibly. "Yes, I'd like that," she stood up. "Can I put this in my room first though?"

"'Course," said Flynn, looking relieved for some reason. "I'll meet you just outside the door. You'll want a jacket… it's just a wee bit nippy."

"Okay!" she practically bounced up the stairs. "I'll be back!"

She was careful to not wake Summer as she opened the door. She slipped the picture of Flynn she'd been drawing under the mattress and grabbed her coat from the peg. She had just shut the door when a voice made her jump out of her skin.

"So you're going out with Flynn again?"

Gemma shook slightly as she turned to face her brother. He was standing in front of the room he shared with Scott and Flynn. It was hard to tell his expression in the dark but she could see his eyes looked resentful.

"I-" she paused. What could she say? She couldn't hurt her brother, the one thing that had kept her sane through all their hardships. Her constant companion, her anchor.

But…

"Yes," she said softly. She looked up at his eyes. "Gem, I don't want to hurt you-"

He snorted, as though it meant nothing, but his hands rose and covered his face. Gemma stepped forward, grasping his arm.

"Gem… Gem please don't be sad," she said mournfully. "I want to be with Flynn but I never want to loose you,"

Gem let his hands drop a little. She could see his face, afraid and sad.

"But if you're with him, won't you have to leave eventually?" he asked. "What if you leave me and forget all about me?"

"I could never do that!"

"But why?!" Gem asked loudly, forgetting about their sleeping companions. "Do you think he's better than I am?"

"No-" Gemma said, horrified. They were fighting! They _couldn't_ fight, they shouldn't-

"Then why?" he demanded again.

Gemma paused. Why indeed?

"Gem," she said softly. "You're my brother. My twin. We have a bond that no one can understand. Yeah?"

Gem frowned but nodded suspiciously. True enough, they'd never really been understood. No one could explain how they finished each other's sentences or their love for explosions or their identical physical strength and IQ scores.

"It's ours, and Flynn can't have it. It belongs only to us," she smiled at him. "How could I forget you Gem? You're a part of me."

His hands dropped to his side. He looked away, dejected. "'Still want to be with him, though… don't you?"

She didn't answer. Gem sighed very softly.

"I don't want you to be like them Gemma," he said finally. "We did almost loose each other in the wasteland. Many many times. What if we survived all those and I loose you anyway?"

She slipped her arms around his chest. "Nope, you'll never loose me," she said hugging him. After a moment she frowned, perplexed. "Gem… _Who_ don't you want me to be like?"

He didn't answer for a moment. Then, so quiet she could barely hear it, "Mom and Dad."

It shocked her and she gazed up at him. "How-"

"I can't remember their faces," he explained, looking frustrated. "No matter how much I try I can't. I can remember the people who took us… the people who were sitting behind them in the stands. I can remember the faces of the other parents sitting around them, but I can't remember _them_."

Gemma looked at him in shock. True, he _had_ told her. It wasn't like he'd kept it a secret from her. But still… she'd never really thought of how much it must hurt him, to not remember.

So was that why he was so defensive about her? He was afraid that someday he would be unable to remember her face, just as he was unable to remember their parents?

"Gemma?" A voice floated up the stairs. It was Flynn, sounding worried. "Are you alright?"

Gem gently took his sister's arms off his waist. "You go ahead," he said, sounding less sad. Gemma started to protest but he shook his head. "It's okay," he took her hands in his and tried to smile. "You're a part of me too… and if you're not happy, I can't be."

Gemma raised his hands to her lips and kissed them, just like Flynn had done to her, only a few nights ago. The action was the same, the love was the same, but the butterflies and the fire existed only for Flynn. Gem looked surprised and a little touched. He coughed.

"Tomorrow I'll ask Flynn about his _intentions_," he joked, quoting the movie they'd watched. His eyebrows furrowed. "I wonder what that means, anyway."

"I dunno," Gemma said, frowning too. "Maybe it's what he intends to do to help me sleep?"

"Yeah… they did say something about Wolf having Virginia on her back…" Gem said, looking thoughtful.

She smiled at him. "Goodnight Gem,"

He nodded. For a split second he looked sad but he covered it up quickly by going into his dorm and closing the door behind him. Gemma turned and went down the stairs.

"I thought you'd changed your mind," Flynn said, looking concerned. "Are you alright?"

She nodded at him, bravely holding back the tears she couldn't cry. "Yes, I'm fine. Gem was up so I talked with him for a minute,"

Flynn looked wary. "Oh. Well. Does he not want you to come?"

She shook her head. "Nope," she said. "He said I should go."

Flynn tried to cover up his shock and failed.

"Really?!" he exclaimed.

She nodded. Flynn looked at her with an expression that could only be described as suspicious. She had a feeling that he knew it hadn't been that simple. Maybe one day he'd ask her about it… maybe one day she'd tell him. But for now she simply shook his head.

"Well in any case, we should be going." He offered her his hand. "It'll be dark pretty soon,"

She took it and they went outside, out into the streets and the dome and the world. She looked up at him and when he smiled at her the butterflies and the heat rushed back to her stomach, where they belonged.

"Flynn," she said as they crossed the street.

"Aye lass?"

"Tell me that bedtime story your Father used to tell you? About the green light?"

As he launched into the tale Gemma leaned closer. He let go of her hand and put his arm around her. She thought of her brother, up in his dorm, who she knew would not sleep tonight.

'_Goodbyes are hard_,' she thought as they walked past the broken down apartment of Alisha and David. '_but…_' she looked up at Flynn who was concentrating hard on his description of the Loch ness monster. '_there's always someone on the other side waiting to say, 'Nice to meet you' and 'hello,_"

* * *

End. :)


	4. Fickle

I recently read a fic where Dillon and Summer have a child. It sort of a amused me… and when I thought about it, I think that out of all the characters, the most likely father of the bunch is Flynn.

_Love is a fickle, difficult thing. People enter into it hoping to find themselves, and in a way, they end up loosing themselves. How to describe it?_

It was Monday- which was their day off and that suited Ronan just fine. Sure computers may be the future, but he found that his favorite piece of machinery was baby blue and had six horses. Switching on the radio with two fingers to his favorite oldies station, he gabbed his rachet and funnel, and jacked up the car a foot so he could slide under. He was just about to change the oil when he heard the creak of the garage door.

"We're closed!" he called, positioning the drain. He listened to the sound of the footsteps for a moment in realization "Son? Is tha' you?"

"Yeah, it's me" Flynn's voice called back, slightly muffled.

Something in his tone made Ronan freeze.

"Thought you were supposed to be with Gemma today."

No answer.

Are ya alright?" He called.

No answer.

With more agility then he knew he had, he pushed himself out from underneath the vehicle and was on his feet. "Flynn?" he called again.

"Right here 'Da."

Ronan turned and looked at his boy. Well, okay, no not a boy. A man. A man with courage and more smarts than all the men and Scotland put together, in his biased opinion. Not that he'd ever tell his son that… would go straight to his head it would. He wiped his greased fingers off on his apron, wondering what on earth had happened that would cause so much fright in his son's eyes.

Silently, Flynn held up one hand.

Ronan's eyes widened. He stared at the ring his son held between his thumb and index finger.

"I'm gonna do it Da." Flynn said lowly.

Ronan swallowed. He reached out and grabbed his son's arm. "Come on," he said roughly. "Let's… let's have a drink."

A giant lumpy couch, which also served as his bed was the only chair in the place and wasn't being used as a shelf, so that was where Flynn sat down. Ronan was searching the fridge, all the while keeping and eye on his son's face. Finally he tossed a can of rootbeer at Flynn, who caught it without expression. Silence spread over the room.

Flynn was playing with the tab of the can, pushing it back and forth. He looked up at his Father. "I love her Da."

Ronan tried to remember what being in love felt like. Something it seemed like the memories of loosing Fiona swallowed up the memories and finding her. After she'd been buried, he'd stood over the grave; feeling like the world had been painted black. A cry from the squalling infant in his arms had called him back to earth. He stared at the baby realizing, with a bit of panic, that he had no idea what to do for it. That was when his father in law and come over and gently laid a hand on his arm, asking him if Ronan would mind the company of an old man for a week or two.

"I know ya do," he said, looking away. He'd have to be blind not to know such a thing. "But Flynn, ya know she isn't a normal girl. A genius, yes to be sure, but sometimes I worry that you're playing the parent more than the boyfriend, if ya know what I mean."

Flynn shook his head. "I know how she is," he admitted. "But it's all an act Dad. All a mask. She and her brother never had childhoods, so they created their own." He looked at his father. "She's one of the most mature people I know. If anything, I'm not good enough for her."

Ronan nodded, thinking for a moment. The freedom of the world had been good for the inmates of Alphabet Soup. For the first time they were allowed to make their own decisions and go wherever they wanted. The problems they had to solve, which at one time had signified the salvation of mankind were now more simplistic- the daily, "Should I wear red or blue" or "what should I buy for dinner when I go to the market?"

Somehow, the simplest life had healed the twins. At least, in a small way.

"Does she want'a be married?" he asked.

Flynn sighed and winced slightly, rubbing his neck. "I know she loves me. We've been together for almost a year now."

"What about a place to live?"

"The apartment is big enough for two."

"And her brother? Does he agree with all this?"

"I've already talked to him." Flynn looked at his father, "And now with you two. I've… I've tried to think of everything."

Ronan smiled and lifted the can to his lips again. "Not _everything_."

He reached up his neck and pulled at the string, hidden beneath the fabric of his flannel shirt. Taking out the string, he set down his drink so he could untie the gold band from the string. He offered it to his son with a smile.

"'Twas your mother's. She gave it to me just before she died. Figured that one day her son might want to give it to his girl."

Flynn held the ring between his fingers and stared at it in surprise. Ronan shrugged. "You can use it at the wedding if you'd like."

A warm smile spread over his son's face. He looked at his father. "Thanks Dad… I…" he paused, as if struggling to find the words. "Just… thanks."

"Why sure." Ronan looked at the clock on the wall. "You'd better hurry. You'll be late."

Flynn stood, carefully tucking the ring into his shirt pocket. He ran a hand through his hair nervously. Ronan stifled a laugh.

"Bring her back here once you're all done, alright? The car'll be finished by then."

Flynn nodded. He grabbed his father in a quick hug.

Then he was gone.

Ronan picked up the empty cans and set them by the sink. Thoughtfully, he fished his wallet out of his back pocket, rifling through the bills until he found what he wanted.

The face of his wife stared up at him from the copy of the worn wedding photo.

He could still remember offering her a ring, asking her the question. Her reply had made his heart stop for a moment.

_I don't know Ronan. Love is a fickle, difficult thing. People enter into it hoping to find themselves, and in a way, they end up loosing themselves. How to describe it?_

"_I'd say that it's worth it." Ronan replied, hurt. Rejected. _

_Fiona smiled. She touched his cheek, turning his head so they were face to face. "So would I."_

End. :)


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